


It Feels Good To Be King

by xxELF21xx



Series: The Fates Will Tell Your Tale (Kamen Rider) [9]
Category: Kamen Rider - All Media Types, Kamen Rider Zi-O
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Families of Choice, Friendship, Geiz-centric, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Breakdown, a ton of stuff gets revealed in two days, does sougo just not go to school anymore???, he needs to take his exams, i unintentionally made this very geiz & woz heavy oops, toei answer me, woz? in a school uniform? more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Being a King is much more than being above everyone else; it's about including everyone, accepting them for who they are.Being a King doesn't make you an island.





	It Feels Good To Be King

**Author's Note:**

> 14/14.5 cracked me up real bad, oh man. Decade, you bastard.

He wasn't particularly  _popular_ in school; he had sub-par grades, his attendance record was absolutely terrible, he was a total airhead in class, and nobody would want to partner him for projects. Tokiwa Sougo was the kind of guy who'd get labelled as _class clown_ and probably flaunt it. 

Which was why it was jarring to hear someone call him  _King._ With the capital  _K_ and everything.

Geiz blinks, chopsticks hovering above the bento Uncle had made, horrified at the words that'd slipped out of his classmate's mouth. 'What,' he demands, glaring daggers into the unsuspecting boy, 'what did you call him?' The fool laughed, repeating the world's biggest mistake of a word, teasing Geiz about being deaf. 

'You've got to be kidding...' Tsukuyomi groans, slapping the cover of her bento onto the table. Her face had paled into an ashen grey, resembling a zombie, and there was a very obvious frown on her face. 'Don't encourage him!' She chided, pointing a neatly filed finger at the dumbass. 

Their classmate waves a hand, distancing himself from them, 'I mean... If you look at it from an angle, he does act like a king. He's kind, and smart, a little manipulative. He's got a following, and he knows how to dismiss a fight.' In that plain,  _I'm speaking facts_ tone - it does make sense to call Sougo king. 

Except their king happens to be failing everything that wasn't history.

Geiz pretends to lose interest in the conversation, rolling his eyes and digging into his bento with a newfound rage. 'If anything, that guy's an overlord,' he mutters darkly. Woz kicks his shin, giving him that dainty smile that everyone fell for. The both of them go back and forth like this, as usual, silently bickering over how stupid their friend was; until Tsukuyomi inadvertently ends the fight by waking Sougo up for lunch. 

Watching the skinny boy eat shredded lettuce like some sort of lettuce-hoarding dragon, Geiz wonders  _how_ he fits the profile of a king. 

 

The four of them walk back to Uncle's shop everyday, a quiet peace hanging in the air. 

Geiz isn't sure when this tradition started, but they've been doing this since they were in first year, and it's persisted til their third year. He's not even sure  _how_ it ended up like this.

He and Tsukuyomi grew up together, being neighbours and always being in the same class every year. It felt weird, during first year, to not have Tsukuyomi sitting next to him in class; she was always brilliant in her studies, surpassing everyone - a perfect fit for the advanced class. But every year, she'd reject, choosing instead to be next to him, learning at his pace. When they entered high school, she had no choice but to go to the best class  _('You should stop dragging your friend down, son.'),_ leaving him friendless in a new environment. 

Sougo was in the last class, having barely managed to scrape past the entrance exams, getting a perfect score for history and less than desirable results for basically everything else. Tsukuyomi was tasked to be his tutor, to help him keep afloat. He guesses that's how he ends up hanging out at the shop everyday after school, buried in textbooks as they try and tutor Sougo in Maths and Sciences. 

Woz... just sort of popped up one day, in the middle of their first year, sticking himself next to Sougo. The school's prettiest, smartest boy (only outclassed by 3E's Sento in the brains department and 3C's Kaito in the looks department) had declared that Sougo was a "fun" person to be around. Geiz was pretty sure the other boy hung onto Sougo was because he didn't want to go home, there had been some pretty nasty rumours about his home life. 

Thus, their journey as awkward friends began. And it evolved into a comforting family, as they bantered and fussed over each other for the next three years. 

It was pure coincidence that the four of them had been assigned to class 3D this year. Their combined efforts of helping Sougo had finally paid off, Tsukuyomi and Woz were allowed to be excused from the University Prep programme due to personal reasons  _('We just told the Principal we weren't interested, and she let us off. How odd, don't you think so, Tsukuyomi?')_ and Geiz was crammed in there as it was the only class that had vacancy left.

Spending time with them was... _fun._ It took the stress away from everything: his parents' expectations, his supposed inferiority, everything that made him  _him._ Spending time with them gave him the excuse of dropping the mask, it felt  _liberating._ He didn't  _have_ to be "the good son", he just had to be Myoukouin Geiz. 

The three of them never took jabs at his background - all of them came from pretty messed up families. 

'Why not we go get some ice cream before going home?' He pipes up, sticking his hands into his pockets awkwardly at the group stares at him. Woz seemed to have a sheen over his eyes, mouth slightly agape. Geiz doesn't understand, was it that shocking that he wanted ice cream? He frowns, not sulking at all, 'if you didn't want any, just say it; you don't have to give me that fish-eyed stare.' He storms past them, heart thundering in his chest,  _I made it awkward. Fantastic. Great. Good job, Myoukouin._

A series of running footsteps chase after him, his friends yelling his name in enthusiasm (and hysteria, what even?). 'Hey! Wait up!' Sougo shouts, launching himself at Geiz, landing on his back haphazardly. He thinks Tsukuyomi yells something about being more careful, but all he can see is a beaming King. 'We told you to wait for us, Geiz! We wanna go to the convenience store too, there aren't any snacks left at home.' 

There's a brilliance that Sougo emits, something Geiz notices only happens when the other boy is inspired or genuinely happy. He's grinning widely, an arm slung over his shoulder, filling up the space between them with endless chatter about something someone did, not waiting for the other two to catch up. Geiz gives him a weird look, signalling that they should stop for a bit; but Sougo only laughs lightly, 'how about we race there? We've never done that before!' 

He's about to say that  _it's a terrible idea, idiot,_ but Sougo had already announced it to the other two; that devious brat! The four of them take off like bullets, cheering each other on with taunts and bets. 

Tsukuyomi wins, hair wild and uniform slightly rumpled. There's a wide smile on her face, her teeth glinting under the summer sun, her cheeks pink from laughing and running. 'Next time,' Sougo swears, completely exhausted, 'next time - I'll win! Just you wait!' Woz barely manages to hide his mirth, resting against the cool glass of a Family Mart, 'I beg to differ, Sougo. You look like you're ready to keel over. I'm more likely to succeed.' A haughty smile stretches over Woz's face, making him look even more of a high schooler than ever. Geiz snorts, 'as if.  _I'll_ win, next time.' Tsukuyomi laughs, jeering at them and claiming that she'll claim complete victory for every round after this.

The four of them bicker back and forth, picking up various snacks as they try to cool down. All of them were terribly sweaty, their uniforms sticking to their skins uncomfortably in the heat. 'Let's go home as soon as possible,' Woz urges, pushing them out of the aisles and to the cashier, their basket overflowing with junk food and ice cream. 'I heard that Uncle was going to make butter cookies for tea, and hamburger steaks for dinner.' 

(It occurs to Geiz, much later, when they're seated in the dining room, textbooks and papers scattered all over the table and butter cookies in their mouths, that there was going to be a  _next time_ to the convenience store.)

 

Tsukuyomi clears her throat, glaring at the both of them with a patent pending Tsukuyomi Frown, 'weren't you two supposed to be washing the dishes?'

Geiz and Woz jump apart, stumbling on their excuses and talking over each other, running to the kitchen to do as they're told. The both of them had been wrestling over what game they should play: Mario Kart or Overcooked, while Sougo suggested that they all go out and view the stars and Uncle went to discuss some business stuff with a client. They weren't expecting Tsukuyomi to scare them, thinking that she went home already.

'Oh, Tsukuyomi?' Geiz hears the surprise in Uncle's tone, 'aren't you supposed to be going back, now? Your parents gave you a curfew, right?' He stops scrubbing the bowls, turning his head to look at the scene in the dining room. 

She laughs, wringing her skirt tightly. Sougo stares at them, his storybook long forgotten as he assesses the situation with a worried expression. 'Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? My parents aren't home yet, and they don't want me to go back to an empty house. Apparently, there was a stalker near our neighbourhood.' She hides her eyes behind her bangs, face dark, biting her lips in anticipation. 

Uncle nods, buying her story, 'oh my! That's going to be dangerous, isn't it? Walking home alone and having nobody look out for you?' She flinches, tugging her sleeves down further. Tsukuyomi doesn't say a word in reply.

He frowns, wracking his brains to remember if his mom said anything about a stalker, or if Tsukuyomi's parents mentioned anything about leaving work later than usual. The neighbourhood was quiet as always, with no troubling news to be heard, and he's sure that he saw her parents bid her goodbye this morning, saying that they'll wait for her to come back.

Sougo's eyes go dark, losing its shine and happiness, and his face is devoid of emotion. It's a look that he rarely shows, making him scarier than people would give him credit for. He's never seen it before, not in the three years of friendship, but there's a steely determination under that paper thin skin. He's calculating something, working out the cogs in his brain, forming plans and thinking of ways to execute them.

Woz leans against him, startling him into almost dropping a bowl. When he turns to glare at him, Woz mouths  _I saw marks on her skin._ His jaw clicks shut, a simmering rage. They share a look, equally thunderous. 

'When,' he whispers, maliciously scrubbing sauce off a plate. Tsukuyomi's parents were a little neglectful, they were both big names in the law industry, and had little to no time to spend with her.

He remembers her dad placing a hand on his shoulder, when he was seven and managed to help her chase some bullies away from a toddler,  _'promise me that you'll take care of her for me, Geiz.'_ Her father had an intense look in his eyes, one he would realise later to be  _haunted._ And he'd made the promise, he swore that he'd much rather die than allow Tsukuyomi to get hurt. 

But she got hurt.

Woz shrugs, clearly angry, and they resume scrubbing the dishes. Knowing her, Tsukuyomi probably won't go home after this. Should he offer up the guest room in his house? His parents liked her enough, and he still has a few of her clothes tucked away in the guest room's wardrobe. There were spare toothbrushes at home, and a spare pair of slippers too. If her parents asked, he could just say that they were preparing a surprise party for Woz - his birthday was close enough. 

'Why not you stay over tonight, Tsukuyomi?' Sougo's voice breaks him out of his thoughts, he sounded so sincere, optimistic. 'Your parents won't mind, right? We have a spare room here, and I could lend you some clothes.'

'That's... I can't possibly...' She stutters, backing up slightly, 'I shouldn't bother you.' 

He dries his hands on the rag, chipping his shoulder against Woz's. 'Hey, I don't see why not,' he chimes in, squinting at the harsh dining room lights, 'the weather forecast said that a storm is headed right where we live, and my umbrella can't shield two people.' He knows that Uncle has more umbrellas at the front of the shop, but doesn't give Tsukuyomi the chance to mention that. 'Besides, we can take the time to complete our project.' 

Uncle laughs, that jittery,  _I know what you're planning but I won't say it_ laugh, 'yes, yes, I heard that the storm would be particularly nasty. Better to be safe than sorry, Tsukuyomi.'

With that, she finally surrenders, 'thank you so much, Uncle, Sougo. I'll be in your care.' 

Nobody asks her questions when the sleeves of her blazer lift up, revealing a series of bruises and harsh cane marks.

(He realises, when he gets home and  _hears_ the ugly fighting next door, that Tsukuyomi's parents are getting divorced. His mom tells him to steer clear of their neighbours for a bit; his dad ushers him up to his room, asking about Tsukuyomi's current whereabouts and mental health. 'She's at a friend's house, I'll go grab her stuff tomorrow morning and hand it to her,' he replies.)

 

When he steps into class, he's immediately assaulted by a dozen girls and their aggressive shouts. 

Usually, he'd just ignore it, walk straight to his desk next to Tsukuyomi and take a nap until class started. Usually, he'd get woken up five minutes before the teacher walks in by Sougo's loud chattering. Usually, Woz would swoop in thirty seconds later with a warning about waking him up. 

It went like this:

He ignores the crowd, slipping through them like sand through a hand, walking towards his seat. The duffle bag in his hand feels awful, an emotional scarring waiting to happen. He knows that there's a note in there ( _don't come back for a while_ ), he knows the implications the note can and will bring. 

Maybe that's why he slips up.

In a twisted, comical way, he ends up bumping right into Woz. That wouldn't be a problem, if the boy wasn't so swarmed with admirers. The girls never did like him much, they thought he was too gruff, too... invisible - and to have knocked into their greatest idol? Blasphemy. The duffle bag drops like a laden weight, a  _thump_ resonating throughout the class. He hears the girls whisper,  _'is he leaving home? There's no training camp going on right now. Poor boy, what was his name again?',_ and his blood begins to simmer. 

A warmth settles on his back, guiding him further into class. Dazed, he allows himself to be manhandled. 'Woz, where are you going?' One girl asks, her voice a ripple in the water, there is no reply. Several others try to catch Woz's attention to no avail. It takes him a few more seconds to realise that Woz's towering height is shielding him away from the rest of the class, hiding him safely in his seat near the windows. 

'I'm okay,' he tries to shove the boy away, throat suddenly too scratched up to make human sounds. He doesn't need to look to know that Woz is smiling, a small, hurtful grin on. 'Really. I am. I just need- '  _some time alone_ is what he'd say, but darkness settles over him, muting his senses and blowing out his vision. There's a smooth, satin-like fabric covering his head: Woz's scarf. 

'I will give Tsukuyomi the bag. You're unwell. Rest.' Even the cryptid has his off days, huh?

He nods, the rustling of the scarf a minor discomfort, laying his head in his arms. He tries to breathe,  _once, twice, three deep breaths._ Then, once his lungs feel clear, he cries. 

(Geiz doesn't know why he's crying. It's a terrible, horrible, feeling. He feels both hot and cold, flashing in between a fever and a frostbite. The table shakes minutely, and his mind is numb; not working. It's like his entire body had just decided to shut down and reboot.)

 

Sougo sends him to the infirmary, walking in long, quick strides. Geiz's body is heavy, as if there had been a weight suddenly placed on his shoulders, moving to match up with Sougo feels like running a 50-kilometre marathon. Something awful must've happened when he was blacked out. 

'Ah,' Sougo stops abruptly, turning around to face him, 'sorry if I'm too fast. I'll... ' He does something incredibly dumb, Geiz thinks, when he decides to carry him in a piggyback. 'This is faster, right? Sorry, we'll be there really soon.'

They walk (well, he's piggybacked) in relative silence, the only noise between them is Woz's swishing scarf. Geiz doesn't remember a time when walking with Sougo feels as uncomfortable as it does now. Something obliges him to make small talk, to find out what happened. 

Sougo doesn't give him the chance. 

'Hey, did Woz ever tell us why he always a scarf?' There's a bitterness in the King's voice, but it's soft and mellowed out. A very Sougo-esque way of speaking. 

'A fashion choice,' he recalls Woz's answer, back when the jerk hadn't been part of their group. The gaggle of girls (and the occasional boy) had  _ooh-_ ed and  _ahh-_ ed, never breaching the topic any more. Geiz knew it was a big fat lie, just like how Woz always claims that he's too weak for PE. And how Woz never really wears any sort of clothes that weren't sweaters or long pants. 

Sougo hums, a sign that he's not convinced. 'What a weird sense of fashion,' is all he says as he walks into the infirmary. 

When he's cleared to leave, it's already time for lunch. Slowly, he trudges back, letting the tail of Woz's scarf flutter in the breeze. The insides on the scarf have several bloodstains on them, leaving him sick to the stomach. 

Tsukuyomi is the first to spot him (always the first), rushing up to greet him and check him over. She frets kindly, not barging into his space, telling him what he's missed in class and thanking him for retrieving the bag. 

She doesn't talk about the note. 

Taking his hand, she guides him back to their little bubble, where Sougo and Woz are already waiting. Four identical lunches take up the four corners of the table, four pairs of unique chopsticks sitting atop each box. He takes his seat, next to Tsukuyomi and Sougo, 'sorry for bothering you.' He apologises to nobody peculiar. Sougo grins, dopey and liquid sunshine, and begins to chatter about every other thing. Tsukuyomi nudges them both to start eating, much to Woz's chagrin. He folds the scarf neatly into a square, handing it over discreetly to Woz,  _thank you,_  he signs. 

Woz doesn't say anything, accepting it with a faint (tired) smile. As soon as the fabric touches the tips of his fingers, Woz winds it around his neck. Geiz can see several burn marks (scarred tissues) near the collarbones, where tan skin turns pink. 

He doesn't point it out. The four of them are stuck in this moment, suspended in grief and hurt. 

Then, Sougo reaches over and steals a stick of yakitori from Geiz's lunch, which starts up a wrestling match pretty fast. Woz jumps, startled at the sound of Sougo's petulant whining and Geiz's growlings, while Tsukuyomi just rests her head in her hands (she's hiding her laughter, they all know it). And just like that, the day continues on as per normal.

As the day drags on, Woz starts to act more out of character than he's ever been - twitchy, paranoid, scared. 

He's about to reach his breaking point, to ask Woz what's wrong, when Sougo shouts that he wants to go to the convenience store. Woz fumbles out an agreement (he doesn't fumble, which is a red flag), running after Sougo and leaving them in the dust. Tsukuyomi sighs, but speeds up as well, shoes clacking loudly on the floor as she lugs the duffle bag around. 

He catches sight of a man in purple (that doesn't look like Chase) staring straight at Woz. 

Oh. 

Uncle doesn't even blink when they storm into the shop, sweaty and swaying from the heat. 'Welcome back,' he says, placing four cups of juice on the shop's counter, 'it was hot out today, wasn't it? Woz, you might suffer a heat stroke if you don't drink enough fluids.' 

Woz flushes lightly, murmuring something about how he's used to it, but accepts the advice nonetheless. 

'Ah, you guys might catch a cold if you stay don't dry yourselves off. How about you go and get changed? Sougo, your clothes should fit Geiz's quite well. I'll go dig up some of your dad's old clothes for Woz.' Uncle climbs up the steps, with Tsukuyomi close behind. 

Sougo hums an affirmative, 'let's go up and get changed. Uncle doesn't like the stink of dried sweat,' he drags the both of them up the stairs, with Woz lagging slightly behind. It was if Woz was having a hard time breathing.

Sougo doesn't stop humming a tune when he pulls out some clothes from his wardrobe, shooing Geiz to go get changed first. He tries to protest, but the other boy is persistent. Sighing, he does as he's told, shutting the bathroom door and shucking off his gross school uniform. The clothes are a little baggy on him, but it's comfortable and helps with the stifling heat. He steps out of the bathroom and sees Sougo positively drowning in his own clothes.

Trying to keep his face neutral, he murmurs a thanks. Sougo cries out indignantly, 'you're laughing at me, aren't you? I  _like_ baggy clothes, okay?!' He tries to fight back, says he's not laughing, but Uncle appears at the doorway with a set of (rather old) clothes.

'Ah, Woz, these should be a good enough fit for you. They're a bit old, though.' Uncle hands him a plain white sweater and a pair of tan slacks.  _Tan slacks._ 'The shirt is a little thinner, so it might help with the heat. Do you want me to wash your scarf?' 

At this point, Woz only has his blazer and tie off. Uncomfortable, Woz grabs at his scarf, 'it's alright, I'll wash my own clothes, my skin is sensitive. Thank you for the clothes, Uncle.' Uncle nods, understandingly, 'it's all good, there's no need for thanks. I'll meet you all downstairs for some shaved ice, Tsukuyomi's already waiting for you!'

The three of them nod, watching Uncle disappear down the stairs. 

'You can use the bathroom to change, if you want. I don't mind waiting,' Sougo gestures at Woz. Woz begins to refute, insisting that Sougo should change first. 'I'll just change here.' Sougo gives the taller boy a sceptical stare, as if assessing his statement, before nodding. 'Sure!'

'I'll go help Uncle set up the table,' he takes the opportunity to leave the room. The bathroom door clicks shut, and as he turns around to shut the bedroom door, he sees burn marks covering most of Woz's body. 

The door closes, and so does Geiz's own wondering mind.

They sit at the dining table, all 5 of them, talking about the high school sports tournaments and what books to read while eating shaved ice. Funnily enough, Woz makes the tan slacks work; and while his shirt is translucent enough to see the scars, nobody brings it up, treating today just like every other day.

(Is this why Sougo's called a King, he wonders, because he's able to take everything in stride and provide what's best? Or is he called a King, because he wants to protect those close to him?)

 

 

(It's very, very, late of him to realise this, but he thinks he's home.)

**Author's Note:**

> A few things to note:
> 
> \- All the riders have presumably studied in this school (with the exception of a few transfer students)  
> \- Any other riders mentioned have already graduated  
> \- Tsukuyomi's parents didn't hit her, it just so happened that she witnessed an argument and got shocked by the shouts, resulting in her losing her balance on the wet floor (some water was spilled in the fight, yes) and she slipped. She sprained her non-writing hand's wrist  
> \- Geiz's parents have a weird relationship with him. They think he can do better but don't really make a move to help him or advise him. They always think he can do better. He's developed a habit of not telling them anything because they'll end up scolding him and making him seem smaller. Their care is really, really, misplaced  
> \- Woz got injured in a home fire when he was around 5-6 years old, and has scars from the elbow to the bottom of his collarbone. Though they're not as obvious anymore, he's still afraid of being bullied by others. His torso has suffered the most damage. He lost his parents in the fire, and is currently living alone. His family is on the richer side, and Swartz is his (disowned) uncle that wants the family inheritance and is stalking Woz to probably blackmail him  
> \- Uncle and Sougo can roughly guess what's going on, but decide not to pursue anything until the trio is ready to talk about it
> 
> please do leave me a comment to let me know what you thought about this!! you can hmu on my [main](http://ankh-o.tumblr.com/) or [writing](https://hunkjasontodd.tumblr.com/) blogs!


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